Guardian Angel
by IndigoLight
Summary: Bondomu watches over the twins, and wonders when he'll be able to take them. Strangest story EVER.R


Fairytale becomes Nightmare.

Imagination becomes Madness.

Toys become Weapons.

Friends become Foe.

XxX

They had been damned from the start, Bondomu thought.

The two children he had selected, the children who lives he'd saved.

They had been born out of misery, and their bad luck had followed them throughout their years.

The poor twins, who had no one but each other.

Orphaned at such a young age, taken in by abusive foster parents.

The way Bondomu had found them, was by following their screams.

Bondomu would watch quietly, as the couple would yell at them, silencing their cries with beatings, verbally and physically. Monsters. Devils. Disgusting creatures, they called them. So sad, Bondomu would think, his heart aching for the little boys. He wanted to hug them and love them and he wanted to slaughter these annoying humans, but he knew it was not possible.

They were not ready yet, not strong enough for him to take.

So he would be forced to wait. And wait, and wait, and wait, until they grew up and were able to use his powers without straining themselves. Until then, he'd watch over them timidly, not interfering, unless there was a chance they would be killed.

He could not let them die before their time, for he had been waiting for them for such a long time.

They were his vessels.

They were his saviours.

There were what he needed for his happy ending.

They _were _his Fairytale, the unfortunate little boys whose nightmares were their lives.

His paradise, their Fairytale, was their nightmare.

XxXx

They were yelling again, and Bondomu sighed, exasperated. From his position on the roof, he floated through walls and peered into the room, wondering what possibly could have caused another racket at this hour.

Ah, he saw it. The foster father was holding something that looked like his wallet, and the he was screaming something that Bondomu had no interest in listening too, but he knew it had something to do with money.

Such a useless thing, money was. It was always temporary and he had no idea why humans would kill each other for a few pieces of metal and paper.

The dark-haired child, with such pretty eyes and a lovely face, was boldly shouting back, glaring at the man with such intensity that made Bondomu smile affectionately. He was sure these were the ones. Two were uncommon, but not impossible.

The blonde one was witnessing the entire scene with an eyeful of tears and a faceful of sniffles, he was a fairy of a child, long gold curls and the largest eyes. This one was much more quieter than his twin—more prone to bow his head in fearful respect than to go up against orders. These twins were perfect for each other. Like darkness and light, they balanced each other out.

Bondomu watched the argument unfold and grow louder with hooded eyes, bored at the simplicity of human problems. There's no more food? Go find some. There's a shortage of money? Go get a job. Things were far less complicated than they made it to be.

The man's face suddenly turned red, furious at a comment Bondomu hadn't heard and suddenly the vase on the shelf was gone, shattered all over the dark child's head, who was started writhing in pain, hands clutching bloody hair.

The blonde child screamed, crawling over to his brother, and the man struck him across the face, telling him to shut up, and that it was their fault in the first place, so they shouldn't be surprised.

Bondomu was behind the children before he knew it. They could not see, hear or feel him, but that did not mean he had no effect in the material world. The man kicked the dark-haired boy in the gut and angered, Bondomu sent a book flying into the man's face. The human roared, outraged and brought his hand back for another strike, but Bondomu glanced at the window and glass suddenly flew everywhere, slicing the man's arms and face.

The twins stared numbly at the window, confused at what had happened, and the evil man was leaving, cursing and yelling and making more ruckus than the children were and Bondomu _laughed_.

He laughed and giggled, and shrieked, and he was sorry he had not murdered the man.

He could feel his grin widening up his face, his eyes rounding.

Using his powers _always_ made him feel this way.

Afterall...

...Imagination isMadness.

...Belief is Insanity.

This was way of the world.

That which cannot be changed.

XxXXx

The poor children! They had been taken away!

They had been seperated. From the only ones they had. It made Bondomu angry, for such unfairness to take place. Even Joyd, with his nightly visits, only stayed for a few moments when he realized what a foul mood Bonds was in.

The stupid, idiot, filthy humans! How could they seperate the twins? They needed each other to survive. Without their brother's support, they'd both crumble. Bondomu could not let them die!

The man had been much more of an idiot than he usually was and had wracked up quite a bit of debt. As a result, the dark-haired child had been sold into a brothel.

A disgusting, dirty brothel.

Pathetic human. Why should the children suffer when he was the one who lost all their money?Humans made absolutely no sense.

It had been heartbreaking to watch. The brothel had sent some men to come and retrieve the little boy. They barged right in, greasy hair and smirking faces, and dragged the screaming child away, ignoring the begging and pleading of the boy's twin brother.

Bondomu could not do much to help. Tryde had been present and warned him to stay out of this, to leave things be. It annoyed him and made him sad, but he understood the importance of letting the children grow into their powers, instead of forcing them upon it.

But still. Making his life so _difficult._

The blonde child no longer had a safe haven in his shattered home and was forced to withstand the foster parents alone. The boy was always crying. Silently, and always did as he was told.

Bondomu was correct. Without each other, the balance was disrupted. A few weeks into the future, the golden-haired boy was soon prone to screaming night terrors, demented nightmares, self-multilation, and lonely cries for the other little child, sent away.

Bondomu made two trips each night. After the blonde, he went to see the other one.

His other little saviour was not doing much better. He was thin, far skinnier than a boy his age should be, and his eyes were bruised with lack of sleep. The light in the child's eyes shone dimmer than it was, and he looked like an empty, hollow, husk.

Bondomu reached out and ran his hands through the boy's hair. He didn't feel it, but his face softened a little, and the child was able to fall asleep peacefully, that night, yet he mumbled his counterpart's name a few times.

A few more weeks later, and the boy with golden hair had been admitted into an asylum.

Bondomu was devastated.

Damned foster parents! Bondomu was still unable to murder them; they provided financial support to his poor child in the nuthouse. But he made their lives horrifying. He sent shadow demons to torture them in the dark, he made windows shatter for no apparent reason. He changed their water into blood, and food into worms. The screams and cries only made him laugh.

He had to stop though, or _they _would be overrun by madness, and where would his children be?

They deserved every torment they got, they needed to be punished for everything they didn't do. They needed to suffer for not being the nurturing family they should have been for his boys and he would make _sure_ that they knew the meanings of the words lament, terror and despair.

Bondomu sighed.

This was the way things were.

The friends in this world...were truly, the foes.

XxXxX

The transformation was almost _complete. _

On on of his visits to the blonde one's room, he discovered something _wonderful._

The boy's skin was _grey._

He screamed and the doctors could do _nothing, _and they feared the little child, the one with bleeding crosses over his forehead. Bondomu squealed with happiness. They were changing. They were change, and blooming into a full-flegded Noah, becoming soidiers that would lead the world to its end.

He needed to know if the other one was undergoing this transformation as well. So, off he went.

The other child was curled up in a dark corner of the room, door locked, and whimpers were heard. This child had quite the tolerance for pain. He didn't scream and roll haphazardly around the floor, but stayed in fetal position, hands digging into his scalp, blood smeared over his face.

The blood, the bright beautiful blood, all coming from the wonderful crosses.

Now, they could become his saviors.

He could embrace them with the roots of his powers, and a beautiful rose would bloom.

He needed to get things started, first.

He stepped into the room, and materialized.

The child snapped his head up, eyes wide with pain.

"Hi," Bondomu greeted cheerily. The little boy stared at him, clutching his head, and he shrunk further into the shadows.

"No, no." Bondomu laughed, taking him by the arm. "Don't be scared. I'm here to help you."

The boy whimpered. "No."

"Don't be scared. Come with me."

The boy shook his head. "N-no."

Bondomu sighed. "I will take you to your brother."

That caught the child's attention. Bondomu grinned. He took the boy's body into his arms. "You and your brother are special." he whispered, his smile widening. "So, so, special."

The child relaxed.

And then the world blurred around them, and they had been moving so fast the child's ears were still ringing, even as they returned to the asylum.

The room was as dull and boring as Bondomu remembered. Broken toys strewn across the room, the little blonde child trembling in the dark-haired child cried out and jumped out of his arms, running over to his twin.

The blonde child was crying, sobbing, not believing that this was reality. He kept repeated how this was a dream, over and over, and Bondomu noticed that in his short absence, the child had multilated his mouth. In order to drive his attention from the pain in his forehead, he guessed, the child had torn the thread from the teddy bear in the room and somehow, sewn his mouth closed. He was rocking back and forth, holding onto his brother, wailing. The doctors rushed into the room, shouting why was another person here, and why was the little blonde child bleeding so much.

One of the nurses pointed at him, accusing him of doing this to the children.

Bonds was offended. He'd never hurt the boys.

Bondomu placed a hand over his face, his grin widening up to his ears.

"Hey," he called, and the doctors and nurses looked up, as did the children. "Let'd kill them."

"Kill...?" the blonde child repeated, softly.

"Everyone who made you sad." Bondomu turned to them, and started walking closer. "Everyone who made you scared, Everyone who made you mad. The ones the hurt you, every _single_ one. _Let's kill them all_."

And the twins were smiling, grins mirroring his own, ear-high and large eyes, and that day, no one came back from the asylum.

The beautiful little children, _his_ beautiful children, now he resided inside their dreams. Bondomu did not mind. Adam had smiled at him when he had come to retrieve them.

He had done well.

His little saviours, no, Jasdero and Devit, now they would help and lead the world to its deserved ending.

Bondomu smiled.'

XxXx

**xD**

**LOL.**

**Where did this come from? I dunno. Pure utter crack.**


End file.
